


I fell for you

by kate_the_reader



Series: Fell for you [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: 30x100, Developing Relationship, M/M, Pining, Prompt Fic, it gets darkish but there is a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: After the Fischer job, Eames waits for Arthur to understand his own feelings.





	1. 1. This is so weird

**Author's Note:**

> I saw one of those tumblr memes that are a list of prompts, and when I noticed there were 30, challenged myself to write a coherent narrative in 30 100-word chapters, (one for each day of September) using each prompt. Some of them were tricky to fit into a story involving two world-weary adults, but I hope I succeeded. I did not alter the order of the prompts, and only edited one or two for grammar.  
> I'll post one chapter each day in September.

“This is so weird.”

“What is?”

“A hotel that’s not tilting.”

“No Mr Charles either.”

“Thank god.” Arthur sidles up next to Eames and catches the bartender’s eye. “Scotch,” he says, and sighs as he sits down.

Eames glances over. He’d waited near the baggage claim and then given up, but here Arthur is, in his hotel, as if they’d made a date. Maybe they had. Maybe they’d been working themselves up to it this whole crazy time.

“You staying here?”

“Thought I would. That okay?”

He grins, tips his glass against Arthur’s. “I’ll get the next round.”

Arthur smiles.


	2. 2. I’m not in the mood to go out and pay for tomorrow’s hangover

“I’m not in the mood to go out and pay for tomorrow’s hangover.” 

“Planning to get that hammered?”

“Ten-hour dream? It’s practically guaranteed.”

“You’ll let me pay?”

“I’ll pay. I’m just not going anywhere. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Arthur drains his glass and flexes his shoulders. 

“Next round?”

“Yeah. Better stuff though. We can both afford it.”

“We bloody deserve it.” 

Arthur laughs. “We do. Fuck it!”

Eames signals the bartender, gets him to leave the Glenlivet in front of them.

By their third, Arthur is leaning one elbow on the bar and turning towards him, hand pushed into his hair.


	3. 3. It’s actually not complicated at all

“It’s actually not complicated at all.”

Eames has lost his grip on his point, clouded by Scotch, the dream hangover, and Arthur. 

“I guess not.” Arthur stares into his glass. “You’re right. You always are.”

“Arthur!”

“What? It’s true. Everyone knows that.” Arthur’s elbow skids off the bar. “Oops … I better go.”

It couldn’t last. 

“Well, darling, thank you for working on your hangover with me.” Eames stands. He’s had as much as Arthur, but he holds it better. “May I escort you?”

He walks Arthur to his room. Is pointedly not invited in.

Arthur is gone the next day.


	4. 4. There is a very plausible reason why I’m knocking at your window at 3am on a Thursday

“There is a very plausible reason why I’m knocking at your window at 3am on a Thursday.”

“How did you even get …?”

Arthur gives him a flat look. “You letting me in?”

Sleep-clumsy, he fumbles with the catch. “Okay, what is your reason?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you thought you’d come and wake me?”

“Haven’t been able to sleep since …” Arthur slumps on the sofa. Eames hasn’t seen him since the hotel, and he looks like shit.

“What can I …?”

“Can I just lie down here? I can’t do it alone, I think.”

“Of course.” Eames fetches him a blanket.


	5. 5. Hold tight

“Hold tight.”

“Hold tight? What am I, Eames, six?” But Arthur does put his arm round Eames’ neck as he is lifted. 

“You’ve been asleep too long. Worried me.”

Arthur has been on his sofa for 15 hours; finally slept at 5am. It’s dusk now.

“Have a shower. I’m making dinner.”

He steers a wobbly Arthur down the hall and goes back to the soup he’s got simmering. 

The shower shuts off. Arthur appears wrapped in a towel.

“Can I borrow …?”

“Course.”

Arthur props his head on his hand as Eames sets a bowl of soup in front of him.


	6. 6. Let’s build a fort and never go out again

“Let’s build a fort and never go out again.”

“What are you, Arthur, six?”

Arthur half smiles at that, his eyes still tired.

“Haven’t slept like that since … can’t remember.” He’s back on the sofa. “Think I’ve been jet lagged for years.”

“You’ve been running.”

“Following.”

He pulls his feet up and reaches for the blanket. “I’ll just …”

He’s curled up into the sofa back, asleep again, when Eames comes back in with a book. The room is quiet, but it’s hard to focus with him there, sighing in his sleep. Finally, he gets up and goes to bed too.


	7. 7. Just … stay

“Just … stay.” 

“No, I …”

“You said you wanted to stay forever, yesterday.”

“And now I need to leave.”

But Arthur can hardly keep his eyes open. He leans his forehead on his hand, fingers tangled in his hair, and looks up at Eames.

“But you can’t sleep on my sofa another night. Take my bed.”

He’s been on the sofa, dozing, all day, only waking long enough to shower and eat the simple food Eames provided.

“I’m not—”

“That’s not what I said. I’ll take the sofa.”

Arthur frowns up at him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He stands up.


	8. 8. I fell for you that morning in the snow

“I fell for you that morning in the snow.”

Arthur’s asleep in the other room. Eames is lying awake on the sofa talking to himself in the dark. He had fallen for Arthur, all at once, in a New York snow storm. Arthur in a ridiculous camel overcoat, snow on his shoulders, in his eyelashes, on his incongruous red beanie. Arthur juggling a coffee cup and his laptop bag and the keys. Dropping the keys and cursing. Smiling at Eames when he picked them up.

But he’d been young, clumsy. He’d pushed too soon and Arthur had pushed him away.


	9. 9. Care to explain how you got into my house?

“Care to explain how you got into my house?”

Arthur is standing in the doorway, glaring. Eames turns from the sink where he’s filling the kettle. He raises an eyebrow. "Really, Arthur?"

“Why, then. Why are you here?”

“Because you just sneaked out. Slept for days and then just … left.”

Arthur looks at his feet. “Yeah. That was … shitty of me. Sorry.”

“Sorry? No explanation?”

“What do you want from me, Eames?”

Arthur has to know what he wants, after all this time. They stare at each other in silence across the kitchen, until Arthur closes the gap.

At last.


	10. 10. This shouldn’t have happened

“This shouldn’t have happened.”

Arthur steps back. 

“What?!”

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

Eames is still standing at the sink, unable to move. 

“Arthur …”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please stop saying that!”

Arthur is back in the doorway. “Can you just leave, please?”

Eames picks up his jacket. He’d been sure enough of his welcome to take it off. More fool him. He pushes past Arthur, shrugging off the hand he extends. 

“Eames …”

“No. Don’t, Arthur. Just don’t.”

He lets himself out the door whose lock he picked not an hour ago.

He feels bruised. Bruised and battered and baffled. 


	11. 11. I guess I knew you’d always be just a little out of reach

“I guess I knew you’d always be just a little out of reach.”

He erases the text before he does the truly stupid thing and sends it. Starts his car and drives back to the little house whose window Arthur knocked on at 3am on a Thursday not long ago. The house he’d rented just because it was near the one no one was supposed to know about. The one he’s known for years is Arthur’s. The one he’s just been thrown out of. By an Arthur who is even more of an enigma now than he has ever been.


	12. 12. They were obviously hitting on you

He shouldn’t be in this bar. He shouldn’t still be in this town. But he is, and Arthur is too, hunched at the bar looking deeply uncomfortable when Eames pushes his way rudely past the two men crowding him and talking at him.

“Arthur!” he says. “Sorry I’m late! What’re you drinking?” Ignoring the other two. Arthur looks at him in pure relief.

“Hello Eames! Scotch. Let me get you one.” 

He signals the bartender and the two men step reluctantly away, glaring at Eames.

“Thank you.” Arthur looks at him with tired eyes.

“They were obviously hitting on you.”


	13. 13. Make me

“Make me.”

He knows it’s hopeless, but he cannot seem to stop himself, no matter what Arthur does. He shifts the phone to his other ear. 

“... leave town,” Arthur is saying.

“As I said: Make me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Eames.”

He knows he’s ridiculous. He feels like a child.

“I was here first. Go back to Africa.”

Since he rescued Arthur in the bar, they’ve had several of these pointless, prickly conversations. Arthur had been happy to be rescued. Now he’s embarrassed.

“This isn’t kindergarten! It’s not your sandbox!” He can’t bear it. “Goodbye, Arthur.”

He sits in the dark.


	14. 14. It’s your fault we’re in this mess

“It’s your fault we’re in this mess.”

Arthur’s not here to listen, but he talks to him anyway. If he had never walked across his kitchen and done what Eames had been dreaming of doing for years, he could have gone on as before. Hopeless, but anaesthetised. And it wasn’t only the kiss. It was Arthur getting drunk with him, Arthur knocking on his window, Arthur sleeping on his sofa, Arthur looking at him with relief in that bar. But he did do all those things, so it’s his fault. It’s easier to blame Arthur anyway. Easier than examining himself.


	15. 15. How have you never had hot chocolate at two in the morning?

“How have you never had hot chocolate at two in the morning?”

“I prefer Scotch. I thought you did too.”

Arthur smiles. “Well, usually.”

It’s been months since that awful phone call and he’d vowed never to work with Arthur again, but here they are, on a stakeout. And Arthur has a flask. Of hot chocolate. He unscrews the lid; the scent is heavenly. “Go on,” he says. He hands the cup to Eames, looks out the side window. “I really am sorry,” he says, almost too softly to hear. “I’ve been such a shit to you.”

“Yes, you have.”


	16. 16. Just … once

“Just … once.”

“Once?”

“If you’d said, just once.”

“I thought I never stopped saying.”

“I don’t have your imagination.”

“Bullshit, Arthur! You knew. You fucking kissed _me_!”

Arthur Is outlined by the streetlight. He screws up his face and shrugs. 

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“Weren’t thinking? I’m standing in your kitchen making tea and suddenly you’re overwhelmed? After all this time?” 

“I was.”

“And then you thought better of it? I can’t sit here and drink fucking hot chocolate and discuss this, Arthur.”

“No.” Arthur starts the car.

“What about the mark?” 

“I’ll take you back. Finish up on my own.”


	17. 17. I know it’s late but I couldn’t sleep …

“I know it’s late but I couldn’t sleep …”

He should not have picked up when he saw it was Arthur, but the habit is too deeply ingrained. What if he was in trouble and Eames ignored it?

“You have to stop doing this to me, Arthur.”

Arthur sighs. “I know,” he whispers. 

Eames can hear him shuffling around in his bed on the other side of the country.

“I never sleep.”

“Never?”

“Not properly.” He sighs again. “Well, on your sofa that time.”

“That was the last good sleep you had? That’s insane, Arthur.”

“I know. I know I’m insane.”


	18. 18. … and you’re the best at boring me to sleep. That’s the only reason I called you, so talk to me

“… and you’re the best at boring me to sleep. That’s the only reason I called you, so talk to me.”

“Boring you?”

Arthur laughs, a high, mad giggle. “Oh god, did I say that? Sending, I meant sending. I really am tired, Eames. I don’t sleep. Especially not since …” He trails off, but Eames knows he means that awful night in the car.

“Have you tried hot chocolate?” he says, nastily. “Goodbye, Arthur.” He ends the call. And lies in the dark for hours. Now he can’t sleep. He reaches for his phone, clicks on Arthur’s number.

Now or never.


	19. 19. We can’t keep doing this

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Yes. I know. I’m sorry.”

“You have to stop saying that. Unless you actually mean it.”

“I do. Mean it. I just keep fucking up. I can’t stay away.”

“Me either. I tell myself never again, and then I hear you’re on a job, and I just …”

“And then I go and fuck it up again and we go round again.” Arthur sighs. “But I really am insane with insomnia, Eames.”

“And it’ll help if I talk to you?”

“Yes.”

“About what? Shall I tell you? Just once? Really spell it out?”

So he does.


	20. 20. And there goes my chance at a full 15 hours of sleep

“And there goes my chance at a full 15 hours of sleep.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Eames. I’m not. For once. But it’s like I have been asleep. Avoiding reality. Denying the truth.”

“Oh, darling.”

“Not sure how you can still say that. After everything.”

He can hear noises in the background. Drawers opening and closing.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“That’s—”

“Don’t say insane. It’s the least insane thing I’ve done for months. Years, maybe.”

It’s getting light, the noise of the city changing, but he doesn’t hang up. Just lies there listening to Arthur getting ready to come to him.


	21. 21. Between you and me? I slept through his entire monologue

“Between you and me? I slept through his entire monologue.”

“So you can sleep now? It’s not just my voice that lulls you?”

“You seem to have cured me.” Arthur turns his head on the pillow. “But I still prefer your voice. I’d rather be lulled than bored to sleep.”

It’s true that Arthur doesn’t seem to struggle to sleep, now he’s in Eames’ bed. When Eames can bear to let him. No surprise he fell asleep listening to Cobb drone on. 

It’s Eames who lies awake, too stunned by good fortune to sleep, gazing at the wonder of Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt kind of forced me into this time skip, which meant that everything that needed to come after chapter 20, the emotional catharsis if you will, happened off-screen.  
> I am as frustrated as you, so I'm writing it now and I'll post it after this story is finished. (It will probably be longer than this, or as long!)  
> It's happy from here on though!


	22. 22. Have you lost your mind?

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Lost my mind? Quite the contrary.”

“You’re just going to walk away? Now?”

“Yes. We are. You did.”

“I tried.” Cobb squints, as he does when he’s trying to win an argument.

“And now we’re going to try.”

He and Arthur have talked about this, but he knew he’d have to break the news himself. Arthur’s too tied up with Cobb to do it.

“Well, don’t wait for my call.”

“We won’t. That’s what walking away means.”

Cobb’s face softens into a half-smile, a bit wistful.

“You may succeed better than I did. Good luck.”


	23. 23. I dare you

“I dare you.”

“Dare me?”

“You’re looking for a new job. Give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen?”

What indeed. He was at the top of his game when they quit dreamshare. Liked, respected. Held in fucking awe. Starting at the bottom will be a challenge. On the other hand, it’s just mixing cocktails.

“Just mixing cocktails? God, Eames, you can’t say that!” But Arthur’s laughing. 

Being gently teased by Arthur is honestly the best thing about their new arrangement. Well, the second-best. 

“Just don’t wear the flamingo shirt, you’re not Tom Cruise.”

“Oh no?”

“No. Better.”


	24. 24. I’m full of rum and regret

“I’m full of rum and regret.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Eames. Although, rum, ugh. That’s why I stick to Scotch.”

Arthur brings him a couple of painkillers and a glass of water; adjusts the blinds before crawling into bed behind him. His hand on Eames’ forehead is cool and soothing. Eames drifts in a cloud of alcohol and Arthur. The regret is mild, compared to that of before, when he had tried to dull the pain of Arthur with alcohol.

He’s almost asleep again when Arthur says, softly, into his neck: “I’m so sorry.” He’s obviously not talking about cocktails.


	25. 25. Here, let me see

“Here, let me see.”

Arthur leans sideways so he can see the magazine. The interview says the designer (someone he’s never heard of but who Arthur says is the hot new thing) will use only “real blokes” in his upcoming show.

Arthur looks sideways at him. “Well?”

“Definitely, darling! You have to do it!”

“I meant you. I’m hardly a ‘bloke’.”

“Oh no, not me. I’m not built for those catwalk clothes. You, on the other hand …” He gestures down Arthur’s elegant body. “You’re perfect.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow and blushes, but he preens slightly.

“We’ll see.”

“Mmm, we will.”


	26. 26. I can’t believe you talked me into doing this, you owe me

“I can’t believe you talked me into doing this, you owe me.”

“Nonsense, love. You’ll be brilliant!” Eames steers Arthur out of the door, into the lift and into a cab. 

“What will I owe you?”

Arthur leans against him. “I’ll think of something.”

Eames can’t believe this is their life now. Cocktail bars and catwalk shows. Sometimes he wonders when they’ll tire of it. Whether they’ll be drawn back into dreamshare, unable to stay away, like Cobb.

But not today. Today is for Arthur to look devastating.

Devastating he does look. And Eames gets to go home with him.


	27. 27. No need to rush

“No need to rush.”

Eames has made his way backstage. He’s lounging while Arthur takes off the runway clothes. “I wish you could wear that out.”

“You want me to? Ben’s giving it to me. No pay for ‘real blokes’, but we get an outfit.”

The suit is the almost-black purple of an eggplant, perfectly tailored to show off Arthur’s slender form. He does a slow spin. “Yeah, I really like this one,” he says.

“No one will look at me, next to you, love.”

Arthur’s eyes are hooded. “Good. I don’t want to share.”

“I suppose I have to.”


	28. 28. No time to explain! Just pretend to be my date

“No time to explain! Just pretend to be my date.” Arthur steps up behind him at the crowded party, whispers in his ear.

“Pretend? You haven’t forgotten we’ve been living together for six months?”

“No, but I don’t want everyone here to know that. Pretend we only met recently.”

He spends the rest of the evening flirting with Arthur like a man who hardly knows him. Which is bittersweet, given their long, not always happy history.

“Where did you two meet?” asks designer Ben.

“He stepped into my dream.”

“Oooh, romantic.”

Eames laughs. “Work, actually.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m a barkeep.”


	29. 29. I never could bear to leave you in the morning

After they leave the crowded, noisy party, they stroll for a while, letting the sharp night air clear their heads, drawing admiring glances on the street. Then they get a cab and Arthur leans against him again, yawning. “That was fun. Wouldn’t want to do it always, though. All that pressure to be perfect.”

“You were the most gorgeous man there, darling. I only had eyes for you. And you are perfect, to me.”

As he undresses in their bedroom, Arthur says: “I’m so glad you’re not just my date. I never could bear to leave you in the morning.”


	30. 30. You always had me

In the clear light of morning, Arthur stretches, arching his spine, baring the delicious line of his throat. 

Eames can’t help himself. He sucks a bruise into the perfection. Arthur purrs under his mouth. But then he pulls away.

“I really am glad you’re not my date. We never did date, did we? I was too busy being an asshole to you.”

“And sleeping.”

“Yeah, only sleeping, actually sleeping, with you. I was so obtuse, how did you stand it?”

“With difficulty, I’m not going to lie.”

“Thank you for waiting for me to catch up.”

“You always had me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, we've come to the end of this writing experiment. Thanks to those of you who read along and told me what you liked as we went, I hope I was able to make a semi-coherent if occasionally odd story.


End file.
